Badgers' master builder

Barry Alvarez, set to coach his final home game, got Wisconsin out of `the dark ages'

November 10, 2005|By Teddy Greenstein, Tribune college football reporter.

MADISON, Wis. — The tour started in Barry Alvarez's office, a massive space with trophies, cozy couches, enough cherry wood to keep the Wisconsin town of Oshkosh warm for a month and a breathtaking, panoramic view of the Camp Randall Stadium field.

Alvarez then led his visitor to a room that contains 7-foot-high black files loaded with recruiting tapes.

After Alvarez strolled down a corridor, he pointed out that every assistant coach's office has both a view of the field and a flat-screen TV for examining game film.

Alvarez then opened a door and came upon the stadium's 260 Buckingham Club seats, which donors pay between $3,000 and $5,000 to occupy on game days. That kind of coin entitles them to all the free bratwurst their intestines can handle.

"We probably have the biggest kitchen in Madison," Alvarez said proudly.

So it begs the question: Which accomplishment means more to Alvarez--his three Rose Bowl victories or this all-world complex?

"It all ties together," he replied. "When we came here, the athletic program was on its back. It was a mess. But we've been able to do this, build a new basketball arena, a $5 million crew house and a softball complex. Had we not had the success, we couldn't have considered doing this."

Alvarez's success can be measured in many ways, one of which will be the expected outpouring of affection he will receive Saturday when he takes the field for his final home game after 16 seasons.

Alvarez will remain as the university's athletic director, a title he formally added in April 2004. But the head coach's office, a shrine to Wisconsin football that Alvarez and wife Cindy designed, will change hands when defensive coordinator Bret Bielema succeeds him after the season.

Bielema surely will appreciate the years of hard work that went into the office, which was part of a $109 million stadium renovation. If not, the Wisconsin players will remind him.

"His office is bigger than my whole apartment," center Donovan Raiola said. "It's unbelievable. There's even a little grill on the porch. What more do you need?"

Bottom's up

After Alvarez entered an interview room Monday for his weekly news conference, he veered toward the coffee machine. But there was a problem: No one could find a cup.

"Well, I guess no coffee today," he said calmly.

OK, so not everything in the football program is perfect. But it is compared with how things were in 1990, when Alvarez left his post as Notre Dame's defensive coordinator for his first college head-coaching job.

Under Don Morton, the Badgers won three Big Ten games in three seasons.

"Wisconsin was right there at the bottom," said Iowa's Kirk Ferentz, who coached with Alvarez in Iowa City under Hayden Fry from 1981 to '86. "They were really a team you didn't have to practice for."

And the Badgers' horrendous play was only part of the problem. The athletic department was $1.7 million in debt, in part because the stadium was half-empty for games. At one point Alvarez asked for money to buy practice jerseys--and was turned down.

The football coaches shared a single phone line, and there was no system for transferring calls. So when the phone rang, a secretary had to find the coach, who would then pick up the phone.

Newly hired athletic director Pat Richter had planned to interview both Alvarez and West Virginia coach Don Nehlen in person. But after Clemson beat the Mountaineers soundly in the Gator Bowl, Nehlen asked for extra time to recover.

Richter didn't need another minute. He wanted Alvarez, who had impressed him during a meeting in South Bend with his enthusiasm and promise to hire a top-notch staff.

"I wanted someone who was fired up for our job," Richter said in a telephone interview. "As a first-time head coach, he had a motivation you might not see in other candidates."

Alvarez quickly built a strategy based on finding tough and tough-minded players who were willing to sweat 12 months a year.

"Our first group of kids thought we were punishing them in the out-of-season," Alvarez said. "But I wanted to teach guys how to work and I didn't want any quick fixes.

"We tried to see how we could beat Michigan and Ohio State, whether we could get a lot of skill players. One thing we felt we could get were big linemen and physical linebackers. So we built a program that plays a physical brand of football that would give us a chance to beat the best teams in the league."

From 1996 to '98, the Badgers produced four All-America players--three linemen and running back Ron Dayne, who looked like a lineman.

"There's obviously going to be emotion, but he wants to do everything the right way," Wisconsin receiver Brandon Williams said. "It always has been about Wisconsin football. It's all about the program."

Alvarez, 58, said he doesn't want to overshadow the 16 seniors who will take the Camp Randall Stadium field for the final time. Then there's the matter of maintaining focus against an Iowa team the Badgers have not defeated since 2001.

This year's Wisconsin team, which lost 11 starters and was picked to finish as low as ninth in the conference, is 8-2 with its sights on a Jan. 2 bowl game.

Perhaps that's why Alvarez, the only coach in Big Ten history to win the Rose Bowl in back-to-back years, refuses to think beyond Saturday's kickoff.

"I've decided I'm going to play the thing out," he said. "And when it's over, I'll sit down and reflect."

Alvarez might even miss his old office.

"The AD's office is not as nice as this one," he said. "My wife's just starting to work on that."